


Tuj'Qoch

by realpieceofwork



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Non-traditional Heat, Polyamory, This Is Not Going To Go The Way You Think
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,357
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24285592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/realpieceofwork/pseuds/realpieceofwork
Summary: Riker starts to act strange, Picard and Worf need to stay strong in the face of an unsolved mystery.
Relationships: Jean-Luc Picard/William Riker, Jean-Luc Picard/Worf, William Riker/Worf, William Riker/Worf/Jean-Luc Picard
Comments: 7
Kudos: 11





	Tuj'Qoch

It’s been a long day for Captain Picard. It wasn’t only that they had a diplomatic mission, Riker was… or wasn’t, he supposed… He couldn’t tell what. It wasn’t that the First Officer was less like himself. Which was good, because at this point, Picard knew if something felt off on this ship, that couldn’t mean well. But Riker wasn’t a hundred percent himself either.

It wasn’t that he was less… compliant, because that didn’t really fit the young man. And he wasn’t less obedient either, because he did everything as usual, but there was something in the way he did that seemed… Almost hesitant, maybe. Less ready to comply orders, a fragment of a second longer than usual.

Jean-Luc tried not to worry. Will did everything as usual, and he was just a little… off, didn’t mean he was replaced by shape-shifting aliens or brainwashed, or made-up from Jean-Luc’s memories, or whatever strange thing decided to mess with them this time around. Will was fine. He said so. Deanna said so.

Maybe he just woke up on the wrong side of the bed. He’d ask Will about it once he was officially off-duty. Will already was, so was Lieutenant Worf and the whole day shift. Only Picard had to stay, because those damn ambassadors needed pestering. In the end, they called it a day and Picard was finally free to leave his ready room, and so now, he was wandering the halls towards his quarters. Any minute until he stepped foot inside, he could be called back on bridge. Well, he could be after that as well. He tried not to think of that.

Instead, he focused on what to do once he could lose the constricting uniform. He would take a shower, maybe a bath if he felt specifically romantic, then he would read a paragraph or two in bed, if his bed-mates allowed him.

Most of all, he was looking forward to spend time with said bed-mates in private. He started imagining scenarios where he would get in, right in their embracing arms, talk for a while, maybe in said bath, then cuddle up close and just… unwind. It wasn’t often he felt sexual desire, not because his bed-mates weren’t attractive or desirable, Jean-Luc just wasn’t the type. But maybe they should do that tonight. Feel their connection, come to an understanding…

His fantasies about his peaceful, quiet night were shattered as he entered his quarters. He stopped short just inside the door, watching, with wide eyes the remains of the glass coffee table, shattered to pieces. Furniture and clothes all over the place. Even a PDA was broken… Expecting the worst, he came over his initial shock and rushed to the bedroom, not prepared to the sight that welcomed him there.

The bed was broken. He had no idea how that was possible. At all. The thing was made of titanium. And still, it was in pieces. There was a piece of the side by the door and the whole frame was in cracked in the middle. Clothes and various items stern all around, just like in the sitting area. And in the middle of it all, Lieutenant Worf was kneeling on the floor, in the process of folding a shirt. He looked up when he sensed Picard’s presence and his shoulders sagged, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Worf, what… What happened here?” Jean-Luc asked, voice a pitch higher than normal from shock. Worf sat back on his heels, hanging his head. He wasn’t in his uniform, but in a comfortable off-duty outfit of dark green shirt and burgundy trousers.

“It’s… Complicated.” The Klingon wasn’t looking in Picard’s eyes still. He drew a sharp breath, looking around.

“Where’s Riker, is he—”

“He’s… He’s alright, I think. Physically.” Worf was quick to reassure him, but his words did everything but that.

“What do you mean physically? What happened?” He looked around again. “Who… Did you do this?” Because there was no other explanation. None.

“I—No. It was…” Worf sighed, frustrated and he stood. He went over the bed and sat, which only made the frame crack and shift more. Picard chanced two steps inside but couldn’t bring himself to sit. He didn’t want to repeat his question, so he waited Worf out. “Have you ever heard of Tuj’Qoch?”

Picard shook his head as he stepped over the debris and sat next to Worf.

“What is that?” He asked gently.

“It’s kind of a…” Worf shook his head. “It could be best described as… Well… Heat.”

“Heat?” Picard frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.” At that, Worf stood and began pacing.

“It’s not exactly the same. There’s no physical changes in the body, rather mental ones. It’s… It’s a little like having a period as a human female.” Oh, that kind of heat. Understanding started to draw on Picard. “The Klingon who enters into Tuj’Qoch becomes irritable, aggravated, needy and… testy. It isn’t common and it’s considered as a very… undeveloped behavior. Modern Klingons don’t have it. But those who follow traditions do. It appears mainly with young females who recently mated and are both physically and emotionally very… attached to their mate.”

“Did…” Picard had to stop to clear his throat, not wanting to embarrass or hurt Worf, but he needed to know so he could be prepared. “Did you—” He didn’t even finish, Worf cut him off.

“I got back from the HoloDeck an hour ago. The First Officer said he could use a nap so I left him to it, then when I returned he was awake and… arguing with the replicator. He wanted some broth made but the computer kept asking for specifics and he couldn’t give them. Then he finally made it, and tasted it. I was just putting away my things when he cried out and threw the plate across the room.

“Naturally, I asked what happened and if he was alright. To that, he snapped at me, telling me that I couldn’t leave him alone for a moment and how I never told him anything about Klingon culture while I know he’s fascinated by it. We fought for a few minutes, all the while he kept picking up things and throwing them. At one point he broke the table but I didn’t notice because he said some things that made me angry, and then…

“Then I told him he was acting like a juvenile in Tuj’Qoch. It all went very wrong after that. He wasn’t even screaming at me anymore, just kept shouting and breaking things, then he broke the bed. I was afraid for his health so I quickly ran to him to see if he was injured but then he ran out the room. I’ve been trying to clean up since then.” Worf collapsed back on the bed, defeated as he gestured towards the corner, where bent pieces of metal of the closet doors laid in a pile with some torn clothes. As Picard looked around, he saw that the worst of the bedroom was the bed, and some more clothes, but other than that, Worf must’ve cleaned it up most of it.

“I see.” Picard murmured, thinking through what the Klingon said. The Lieutenant wasn’t one for rambling about irrelevant things, which made Picard wonder… “And you think he really has that… Tuq—”

“Tuj’Qoch. I don’t know. Maybe. I only ever saw Klingon females act in such ways. This was the only explanation that made sense to me.” Worf shrugged, still not looking at the Captain. Picard nodded regardless.

“Where’s Will now?”

“I… I don’t know. Our fight left me… upset.” Worf admitted stuttering, then turned his head towards the ceiling. “Computer, locate First Officer Riker.” The acknowledging beep sounded, then:

“First Officer Riker is in Guest Quarter eight.” That surprised both of them. Riker, just like Worf, still had his own quarters, even though they spent most of their time in Picard’s, from time to time they stayed in their own rooms for presences. Why would Will chose a guest quarter instead of his own baffled them both.

“Alright.” Picard said at last, reaching out and gripping Worf’s knee before he stood. “I’ll go, talk to him. You should call maintenance about the broken furniture. Tell them… Tell them something believable.” He trailed off, finding himself short for an explanation. “Or don’t tell them anything. You shouldn’t clean up on your own. I’ll be by shortly to help you with whatever is salvageable. You just take a moment to regroup.”

“Captain—” Worf started but Picard cut him off.

“Not your Captain here, Worf.”

“Sorry. Jean-Luc, I’m… I’m sorry. How ever it is my fault—”

“This isn’t your fault.” Picard said it with full confidence. “And it isn’t Will’s either. We will figure this out.” He reached out and squeezed his shoulder. “I’ll be back soon.” With that, Picard turned and left his quarters. Just as he stepped out, he heard Worf call the maintenance team, which made him smile momentarily, but then he turned to go to the guest quarters, which turned his mood sour really quick.

He couldn’t make sense of the situation, but he supposed he shouldn’t be able to, not at least until he spoke to Will. He had half a mind to call Deanna, but decided to try to straighten this out on his own first. After all, this wasn’t star ship related issue. He hoped. He stopped in front of the guest room’s door, pausing to brace himself for whatever was waiting for him on the other side. He took a deep breath, nodding to a passing officer before tapping the “doorbell”. It went unanswered for a few minutes, so he tried again, unsuccessfully. He didn’t turn his head like Worf did, just asked:

“Computer, is First Officer Riker still in Guest Quarter eight?”

“Confirmed.”

“Override door lock, authorization: Picard-4-7-Alpha-Tango.” The affirming beep sounded and the door slid open with a ‘whoosh’. Picard stepped into the room, letting the door shut behind him as he kept his eyes on the young man he could spot from the doorway.

Will was sitting on the windowsill, knees pulled up with his arms hugging them to his chest. He had his forehead pushed to them as well, and he didn’t even look up at the opening door. Picard stepped closer and closer until he was at arms-length from his First Officer.

“Will.” He said gently, hoping his tone will bring the man out of whatever melancholy he fell into. Will didn’t even move a muscle. Picard stepped up to him and placed a hand on his back. “William.” Riker still didn’t react, not even tensing at the touch. “Will, can you hear me?” Picard shook him a little after a minute of silence. Riker remained in place. “Come on, Number One. Look at me.” Nothing.

Picard decided to take matters in his own hands and reached down to take hold of Riker’s hidden face and bring it up to look at him. Riker’s eyes were glassy, unseeing, his lips parting as he’d been moved. His hair was a mess and he looked exhausted. Picard tried calling out his name again and again, getting more and more upset at Riker’s unresponsiveness. He even slapped him, but all it did was to move Riker’s head.

“Picard to Deanna.” He said shortly, hitting his comm, once it became clear Riker wasn’t going to respond.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Come to guest quarter eight immediately.” Since Deanna was the only one who… sort-of knew about their relationship, he wasn’t about to call for sick bay right away, but he had a feeling whatever was wrong with his Number One, it couldn’t become ship-wide knowledge.

“Yes, Captain.” Deanna answered, then the comm vibrated, indicating it deactivated. Picard hit it again.

“Picard to Worf.”

“Captain?”

“Come to the guest quarter. Something’s wrong.” Worf grunted out a ‘right away’, remembering he didn’t need to be overly formal now, then the comm deactivated again and Picard waited, kept calling for Will and hoping he will be alright.

Deanna and Worf got there at the same time and Picard let them in. He was somewhat embarrassed to have been seen like this by Deanna. He was sitting on the sill next to Riker, the man’s head pulled to his shoulder while he caressed his back and arms. To her credit, Deanna didn’t even blink, just went over and began softly talking to Will. When it became evident, he wouldn’t even answer her, she turned to Worf.

“You’re upset. What happened?”

“We… We had a fight. He ran off. I didn’t know…”

“Stop.” Picard said firmly, pinning Worf with his gaze. “You had no way of knowing. We don’t even know what’s happening.”

“Well, I’m not getting anything from him.” Deanna gestured at Will, dejected. “This seems like something Beverly should handle, Captain.”

“Very well.” Picard sighed, not liking the idea but not seeing other ways.

“It…” Worf started, looking at Deanna, fidgeting. “It could be from the Tuj’Qoch. I’ve heard of it happening before.”

“We don’t know if that’s the case, or what effects it might have on humans.” Picard argued, though it was mostly for the principle of it. At Deanna’s questioning look, he said: “Let us get Beverly and see what she thinks.” He looked over to Worf for confirmation that’s what both of them wanted, and at his grim nod he hit his comm. “Picard to Dr. Crusher!”

“Yes, Captain.” She sounded to be in a good mood and Picard thought about how Wesley was over her quarters, having dinner.

“Please come to Guest Quarter eight and bring your med kit.” There was a pause, then Beverly answered:

“On my way.” The comm buzzed to indicate the end of the call, and the room fell into silence. Deanna was still at Riker’s side, one hand rubbing the knee farther from Picard, the other on his shoulder. Worf watched Will with an unreadable expression, still just inside the door. Picard caught his eyes and whatever Worf saw in them, roused him to step closer. Not quite touching either of them, just watching, emotions swirling around his gaze, not quite settling on just one.

It was a minute more that there was a chime and Picard called out, letting Beverly inside. Her eyes widened as she saw Will, leaning against Picard with a blank expression. She opened her mouth, no doubt ready to question what happened, but she didn’t ask, just strode over, putting her kit on the ground and kneeling to take out her tricorder.

Deanna moved away then, looking disappointed, whether in that she could no longer touch Will or that she couldn’t pick anything up from him by then, Picard had no clue. Beverly ran the scanner over Will’s head, frowning at the device in her hand.

“How long has he been like this?”

“Likely for an hour and half.” Picard answered her levelly. Worf’s hands clenched into fists.

“I need to run a few tests, but my initial examination shows a chemical imbalance in the brain.” Beverly sounded calm and collected, not all upset. It seemed to make Worf mad, that she wasn’t more distraught over the state of the First Officer, but Picard was grateful – he didn’t know how he would handle if the doctor sounded worried. “We need to take him to the infirmary.”

“I don’t think he can walk.” Deanna observed. Picard agreed, but it would be a huge relief if Riker could, so he stood nonetheless.

“Let’s just try.” Worf helped him heist Will from his perch, and Picard was able to take two steps with his Number One before anything changed. Then Deanna gasped and Riker tensed under his hand, coming alive with movement as he tried to push away from Picard. First he was just moaning, then his sounds became louder and louder as he fought against Picard. Beverly was already reaching for her med kit, as Picard tried to hold Riker still the best he could, wrapping his arms around the young man.

“Will, Will, it’s alright! It’s us, it’s me, Deanna and Captain Picard and Worf—” But Deanna’s pleas seemed to find deaf ears, then moments later the First Officer sagged in Picard’s arms, knees buckling and eyes closing.

“Dr. Crusher to Transport, beam every soul in Guest Quarter eight to Sick Bay.” There was an affirmative answer, then they were being transported in the middle of the quiet, half-empty infirmary. Crusher led them to an empty bed, and with Worf’s help they raised Will onto it. Beverly shifted into chief mode and ordered a bunch of tests before she even acknowledged their little group of three.

“We can try to treat him, but it would help if we knew what triggered all of this. It couldn’t just happen on it’s own.” She looked at them sternly, but Picard knew she was more concerned about Will than anything. Worf crossed his arms, looking over to the Captain briefly, seeing if he had any objections against sharing. He didn’t, so Worf started to speak.

“Do you know what Tuj’Qoch is?” At Beverly’s negative answer, he explained as he did to Picard. He told Beverly the symptoms, told her how similar Will’s behavior was. Beverly just shook her head, clearly not agreeing, but she asked nonetheless how long it lasts. “A few weeks. The longest I know of was a month.”

“A month?!” Picard turned to him, upset. Worf hung his head.

“The Tuj’Qoch isn’t a period, Captain, I know I compared it to it…”

“No, it does sound like a hormonal reaction to having a mate, I just don’t see the practicality.” Crusher inserted. Worf cleared his throat.

“Klingons don’t really understand it either. But in the old times, Tuj’Qoch females were considered very… fertile.”

“I see.” Beverly nodded. “I’m sorry, Worf, but I have to think of horses, not zebras here.” At Worf’s confused expression, Picard couldn’t help but reach out and squeeze his shoulder. He was tense, but didn’t shrug off Picard’s touch, which he took as a good sign. “I’ll run a few tests. You should go, get some rest, it sounds like you had a busy night so far.”

“I want to remain by his side, Captain.” Worf turned to him, but Picard shook his head.

“Beverly is right, Worf. There’s nothing we can do now.”

“What if he has another fit? A security officer should be here…” Worf trailed off at Picard’s tight expression.

“We’re equipped to handle it. Send up an officer if it makes you feel better, but I see no point standing vigil. Your shift is over.” Beverly responded.

“As is yours.” Worf’s eyes narrowed at her and Picard tightened his grip on his shoulder to signal him Beverly wasn’t an enemy.

“I’ll do what I can now then go to sleep. The sedative I gave him should last a few hours, nothing I’ll accomplish in that time.”

“Worf.” Deanna’s gentle soothing seemed to be the last straw, and the Klingon shifted away from Picard’s hold and left the room without another word. On his way out, they heard him call for a unit to stay by the infirmary. Picard sighed and turned to Beverly.

“I want to know about everything and anything you find.”

“Of course.” Beverly nodded.

“Thank you, both of you, for your discretion.” He looked to Deanna with a pointed gaze and she smiled at him somewhat sadly before Picard left, following Worf to his quarters.

\----

The next day, before both of their shifts started, found Picard and Worf at the Sick Bay. Riker was turned on his side, legs pulled to his chest as he stared into nothing with the same blank expression he sported the night before. Beverly sat them down at her desk and explained her findings.

“I didn’t find any physical indicators for his condition. I’ve looked up Tuj’Qoch in the database…” Picard knew she didn’t believe Worf’s theory, so he appreciated that she still humored the Klingon. “There’s no indication to support or discredit that theory, but you must understand I’m skeptic for a reason. There’s a handful of recorded instances and it never developed in a male before, let alone another species. I find another explanation the most likely.” She took a deep breath, seemingly disliking her own theory.

“What is it, Doctor?” Picard didn’t like to be short with his crew, but Will was his First Officer, if nothing else.

“I hate to think me or Deanna missed this, but it is possible that Will has been struggling with this for longer than we realized. By my theory, he reached a turning point yesterday, or perhaps episodes like these happened before and none of us realized while Riker hid his symptoms from us.”

“That’s impossible.” Worf stated confidently and Picard looked over him, unsure he wanted to share so much with the doctor, but it was a fact they’ve been living with each other for a while now. It would’ve been impossible to miss.

“Sometimes, depressed people are very good at hiding—”

“William doesn’t have depression.” Worf grunted. It seemed to render the Doctor speechless for a moment. She opened her mouth then closed it before any noise left her mouth.

“Worf, people, humans, especially, struggle with mental illnesses sometimes. Yes, we’ve come a long way and found a cure for most of them, but some are universal...”

“What is the next step, Doctor?” Picard asked, placing a hand on Worf’s knee. The movement seemed to capture Beverly’s attention more than it should have, as she stared at the offending hand, but to her credit, she didn’t voice anything that went through her head.

“Riker is in what people used to call a catatonic state. He’s completely unresponsive to outside stimuli. We have some ways to help his brain regain it’s natural chemical balance, but I’m not sure how it would affect him.”

“But many mentally ill people had been treated the same way in the 22nd century and they, as far as I’m aware, didn’t experience any side effects.”

“You know as well as I do that our brain has evolved during the centuries, Jean-Luc. The fact that chemical imbalance is possible at all… A day ago I’d have said it was close to impossible. Our nerves have improved, we grew pathways and eased some that we’ve had that made such things probable. I’ve made a scan, but Mr. Riker’s nervous system looks very much identical to his last one, so frankly, I have no idea what causes this condition in him.”

Picard looked over at Worf, because at least he had some ideas to throw out there. Beverly caught the look and sighed.

“I’m not ruling out anything yet. I’m just saying I need more information. For now, I don’t see a reason not to give the Commander the treatment, so he can return to his day to day life.”

“You said he was hiding this from us—What if he wasn’t?” Worf asked with furrowed brows. Beverly hummed.

“A state, like catatonia is impossible to reach without prior symptoms or a head injury. Mr. Riker doesn’t have any kind of injury, let alone one that would change his entire behavior, so the only logical explanation is that he showed signs of it before, just hid it from us.” She sighed. “I’m sorry. This is probably the only instance where I wish this was some kind of… alien influence, but I’m afraid there’s no proof of that.”

“Except the fact that two days ago he was perfectly fine.” Worf grunted, clearly upset.

“Worf, this,” she gestured towards the infirmary, “doesn’t happen overnight. I… I admit, I’m not aware of how… close you are, but I’m sure he had the opportunity to hide it from you—”

“You don’t understand, Doctor.” He stood and glared at Beverly. “William Riker didn’t hide anything from me, and once he’s awake, he’ll tell you that much. Now, with permission, sir,” he turned to Picard, “my shift is about to start, I need to do my rounds.”

Picard studied him for a moment, trying to convey if Worf is fit enough for duty. In the end, he supposed Riker wasn’t the only one good at hiding, Worf wouldn’t let his personal affairs affect his job. He quietly said: “Dismissed.”

Worf left him alone with Beverly, and the Doctor seemed to relax profoundly with him out of the room. Picard had half a mind to remind her Worf was just upset, but in reality, he had a hard time believing that was all himself.

“Jean-Luc…” Beverly started, clearly torn whether or not address whatever was on her mind. Picard had a hunch what it was, but he left Beverly to decide if she really wants to ask. “How…” She trailed off, struggling, then she sighed and said: “Will will be fine. Physically, at least. Mentally… I don’t think it’s a good idea to let Worf loose on him once he’s back to normal. I suggest you or Deanna be there when they talk… privately, about what’s going on.”

“I appreciate your concern, Doctor, but Worf is a decorated Starfleet officer.” He didn’t mean it to come out so harsh, but since it did, he went with it. “As is Mr. Riker. They’ll need to discuss it on their own and I won’t come between them. Now, do you have an estimate on when the Commander can return to duty?”

“Once I’m done with the treatment, I’d like to keep him for at least twenty-four hours for observation. This is new to all of us and I’m not sure what will happen.”

“Alright. Get to it right away.” Picard stood, ready to leave to start his own shift, tugging on his uncomfortable uniform. Beverly stood as well.

“Do you… Do you want to be here when he wakes?” Picard internally ran through his schedule for the day. It was packed, and most importantly, he was supposed to be with their ambassadors and he was running late as is, trusting Deanna to placate them while he dealt with the Riker situation.

“Inform me.” He nodded to Beverly, who returned the gesture. With that, he left the infirmary and his Number One behind.

\----

Beverly informed him when Riker “woke up”, but Picard was busy with the negotiations, so he couldn’t go. Worf was in charge of the bridge while Deanna and Picard were busy, the they arrived to their destination and it was another round of negotiations. He had to go to the planet to keep things calm, so by the time he returned to the Enterprise, it was four hours past his shift. He immediately went to the infirmary, already itching to have Riker by his side again. But he wasn’t, and he wasn’t in the infirmary either.

“What do you mean he left?” He questioned Beverly, who tended to half a dozen people who got caught up in a smaller plasma explosion in the engine room.

“I mean he stood and walked out on his two feet. Worf went after him, but I haven’t heard from them since.”

“Computer, locate Lieutenant Worf and First Officer Riker.”

“Lieutenant Worf and First Officer Riker are both at Guest Quarters eight.” Picard tuned out of the room without any greetings and rushed to the guest quarters.

Once he reached the room, he didn’t even try to ring, used his override code immediately. Worf and Riker were on the floor, Worf holding Riker awkwardly. It looked like he was trying to restrain him before they both sank to the floor. Picard rushed over.

“What happened? Are you all right?” He looked up at Worf, who nodded. Picard turned his attention to Will, reaching down to cradle his face. He looked up at him, and the relief of that washed over Jean-Luc like a fresh breeze. Then he noticed the snarl Will was sporting.

“Careful.” Worf cautioned. “He bit me earlier.”

“Bit you?!” Picard asked in disbelief, looking down at Will, wonder in his face.

“Yes. He’s been acting like—” Will tensed and seemingly tried to jump on his feet, but Worf held him tightly, even if Will seemed to wind him. “Like this for about two hours now, apparently. Beverly called me to find him and bring him back, but honestly, I’m glad I can hold him here, I don’t think I could take him anywhere.”

“Computer, lock the door, the only people authorized to exit and enter are me, Lieutenant Worf, Dr. Crusher and Deanna Troi, authorization code: Picard-4-7-Alpha-Tango.” At the confirming beep, Picard nodded to Worf and took a step back to stay clear of Will as Worf let him go. Riker immediately ran to the bed, climbing on it and curling up, much like how Picard found him the other day, face buried in his pulled-up knees. The two of them watched the First Officer for a moment, then Picard decided to take his chances. He stepped closer, and when Riker didn’t react, sat on the bed. He reached out and touched his leg. No reaction.

“Will.” He called gently, but much like the other day, he didn’t move a muscle. Picard sighed and turned to Worf. “I think… I think we should maybe just try and see how long it lasts. Clearly, whatever Beverly tried didn’t work.”

“We, uh… We should still ask for her advice.” Worf said hesitantly, clearly not thrilled at the idea. Picard nodded and hit his comm.

“Picard to Dr. Crusher.”

“Yes, Captain.”

“Mr. Riker returned to his… catatonic state.”

“I’ll be right there.” The comm buzzed and Picard sighed. Worf still hadn’t moved.

“I… I should go.” He said sadly. “He’s been fighting me, I don’t think he wants me here.” He paused. “I should get back to the bridge. I know it’s not my shift…” He trailed off, but Picard understood. But working would busy his mind enough not to think about Riker’s state. Normally, he wouldn’t condone such behavior and he was tempted to force Worf to deal with the situation head-on, but in truth, he felt the same urge to flee the room and bury himself in work.

“Come by my quarters in an hour. Please.” He asked softly and Worf nodded, turning to leave the room.

“Doctor.” He nodded to the woman as he exited and she entered, then pushed past her and out of Picard’s sight. Deanna was with her, who looked after Worf worriedly. Picard was surprised Beverly took the Betaziod with her, but he didn’t protest her presence.

Beverly nodded to him as she sat on the bed as well, closer to Will and ran the scanner over his head. “This is strange. My treatment seemed to work for a few hours but the same imbalance is present now.” She sighed. “I can’t afford to treat him every few hours, it could damage his nervous system…” She trailed off, somewhat unsure.

“I think we should let him be.” Deanna inserted. “I’m starting to pick up some emotions from him, unlike yesterday, they’re muted but they’re there. I think he might be getting better on his own.” Picard didn’t like the implications of that, but his mind was on a similar track. He inhaled deeply, looking over Will while the two women waited for his decision.

He was good at decisions, more often than not he had to decide the faith of his own officers, Riker’s too, but he never imagined he’d need to make decisions like this, where his private life was more affected than the ship’s. Decisions whether let Riker board a strange ship or an alien planet – those were easy, because duty was always first. But now, he wasn’t First Officer Riker. He was Will, William, his partner. He didn’t want to make such decisions.

“Alright. We’ll let this simmer for a while. I’m going to…” He was going to say he will call off their mission, because this seemed like an emergency, but he couldn’t do that. Negotiations were finally underway and if they left now to deal with this, all that work and progress would go to waste. He didn’t finish his sentence, just nodded to the women.

They all left the quarters after that. Picard made sure his earlier command was intact, then returned to his quarters. The furniture and debris had been cleaned up and they had a new bed, wide enough to fit four people. Now it seemed way too big for just two.

Worf came by as promised. He was stiff and tense, the work clearly not helping with the situation at all. Picard patted the couch by his side and the Klingon sat, back straight, knees together with his hands fisted on top of them.

“Worf… Tell me more about this Tuj’Qoch.”

“I really don’t know much.” Worf sighed and finally leaned back, though he was still tense. “I think I could contact to some Klingons, ask about it, see if they know more.” Picard tilted his head to the side, curious.

“What an excellent idea.” He nodded and Worf turned to give him a small smile. It wasn’t his usual, relaxed one, but it was more than Picard got lately.

“I’ll get to it.” Worf was too eager to stand, but Picard didn’t stop him when he stepped up to the control panel and tapped in commands. He watched as Worf worked, then the call connected and a picture appeared, a dark-skinned Klingon in uniform aboard a ship.

“Worf.” The greeting was growled in a familiar fashion. Worf tilted his chin up.

“Terrak.” He returned the greeting, then hesitated. It wasn’t all that visible, but Klingon tended to catch on body language better than any species Picard had ever met.

“What is it?”

“I’m seeking information from the Klingon medical database and I can’t seem to have access from my ship.” Of course, the Enterprise had some Klingon medical data on board – it was Worf’s way of asking Terrak for help without asking Terrak himself.

“I see. What exactly, do you need?” Terrak didn’t seem happy to help, but he didn’t dismiss Worf either, which was good.

“I need to know what there is about the Tuj’Qoch.”

“That’s a barbaric female behavior.” Terral snarled, amusing Picard – Klingon calling anything barbaric just seemed unbelievable.

“It is. I seem to have… Come across it.”

“With whom?” Terrak laughed meanly. “Hard to imagine you mating with any kind of female. Although, I have to admit, if it were any female, it would be a Tuj’Be’.”

“It is none of your concern.” Worf answered with a snarl on his own. “I need the information and you will provide it for me, as I am the son of Mogh.” Terrak didn’t seem impressed and he paused for a moment before he shook his head and said:

“So be it. I am sending over everything we have about the Tuj’Qoch for you.” He looked down to press buttons before looking up sharply. “If you have a Tuj’Be’ on your hand, I say kill it.”

“I will decide what to do with it myself.” Worf’s jaw clenched as he tapped, receiving the information.

“Do not call me again, Worf.” Terrak grunted, then the screen went black and Worf sighed, relieved. He tapped on the control panel a few times, then strode back to the couch. As he sat, he picked up the PDA from the table, turning it on and opening the files.

“Would you like to read it first, Captain?” He held the PDA out, but Picard shook his head, holding up his palm.

“You read, I’ll get us some dinner.” Worf nodded with a serious expressing, and leaned back to read, finally relaxing for the first time that day.

\----

The negotiations the next day went on and on. Picard didn’t even have time to check on Will, but pulled Worf aside when they got a break and asked if he could. Worf seemed reluctant, but when one of the ambassadors called out for Picard, he put on a determined mask and assured Jean-Luc he’ll do anything. Picard felt warm at that, knowing that Worf didn’t want to, but still did for his sake. He just wished he didn’t have to ask that from him.

Three days went by in a similar fashion. Picard saw Will twice, but nor visibly, nor according to Beverly, was there any change in his condition. At least now he didn’t fight Worf anymore.

The information about Tuj’Qoch was basically the same Worf knew about it. They spent a lot of time reading over the data, but even Beverly’s trained eye couldn’t spot more details.

The catatonic state broke when Picard went over to coax some dinner into Will. Beverly kept him on some sort of substance that kept him fed and hydrated, but so far, Will hadn’t moved from his spot, not even to relieve himself.

Picard sat on the bed, putting the tray between them. Worf returned to his own quarters to meditate, so Picard was supposed to be alone for the night. He busied himself with this instead, picking up grapes while he told Riker about their difficult guests.

“And the Halithian ambassador refuses to listen…” That was when Riker reached out and slowly, lifted a grape to his mouth. Picard trailed off, not wanting to scare Riker back in his shell, but feeling significant enough to address him. “Will?”

“I think you should trick them into it. It worked with Alamoise, the thought of a third enemy uniting them.” Riker’s voice was very quiet and scratchy, probably from the days long disuse.

“Number One.” Picard sighed relieved. “How are you, my dear?”

“Alamoise was a war nation though, so it might not…”

“Will?”

“The Halithian are traders, right? So maybe introduce them a new territory where they can trade.” Will shrugged, muttering under his breath, as if he was talking to himself. “They hadn’t been to the Alpha Quadrant, have they?”

“Forget the Halithians, William.” Picard leaned forward to touch Will’s shoulders. “Are you alright?”

“The Alpha Quadrant is good, they’d have plenty of new territories…”

“Picard to Dr. Crusher!” Picard hit his comm, maybe a bit too enthusiastically.

“Yes, Captain?”

“Will started talking.”

“I’m on my way.” She sounded urgent as well, so Picard tried to keep Will talking. He regarded his First Officer for a moment, then nodded to himself.

“The Haithians, they don’t know the Vulcans. They have this oil that’s smoothing for the nerves, do you think the Vulcans could benefit from it, Number One?”

“The Vulcans need medicine. They have this disease when they get old and lose their control over their emotions…” As Riker spoke, Picard quickly hit his comm again.

“Picard to Worf.”

“Captain?” Worf sounded concerned.

“Come to Guest Quarters eight, please.”

“On my way.”

“…maybe their brains. Their nervous system is strong, but…”

“Captain!” Beverly rushed inside, her tricorder already out. She ran the scanner over Will’s head, then reached out to take his pulse physically. The touch seemed to trigger something, Riker flinched away and looked right into Beverly’s eyes, his teeth bated as he spit:

“Don’t touch me, Jagh Lam!”

“Will—” Picard reached out, wanting to comfort Will, but his First Officer caught his wrist and held it painfully tight. “William, enough! You’re hurting me!” Picard tried for a sterner tone. That was when Worf entered. He looked over the three of them, eyes settling on Will’s wide ones.

“William.”

“Qoch.” Will snarled at him, which seemed to mean something to Worf as his mouth opened slightly and his shoulders sagged.

“Doctor, I’m afraid we’ll need to ask you to leave now.” He said levelly, not taking his eyes off Will.

“Lieutenant, with all due respect…”

“With all due respect, doctor, me and my mates would like to have some privacy now.” Worf turned to Crusher with an angry expression. Beverly looked over the three of them, then slowly nodded.

“I see. If course. Excuse me.” She didn’t seem happy to leave, but did nonetheless.

“Computer, lock the door and don’t let anyone inside.” The affirmative beep sounded and Picard looked over at Worf questioningly. Worf didn’t acknowledge him though. “William.”

“Qoch.”

“Who is Jean-Luc?” it didn’t sound like a question.

“Qoch.” Will’s grip tightened around Picard’s wrist.

“Good. Then let him go. You’re hurting him.” Will looked over at Picard, who watched the exchange with equal measures of worry and fascination. Riker hesitated, then let go of his hand. Picard slowly pulled back, rubbing around his wrist. “Good. Now tell us, how do you feel?”

“I—” Will started, then hesitated. He looked between the two of them, his blue eyes wide and desperate. He reached out again, and this time around, Picard met his hold, lacing their fingers together. Will sighed in what seemed like relief.

“William.” Worf’s commanding tone shook Will out of his daze and he looked over as if startled. Picard hated to see him this disheveled. His hair and bread started to grow out, so they were wild, standing up in every direction. He smelled like he didn’t shower for a week – which he didn’t. He had dark circles under his red eyes.

“Worf?”

“Number One?” Picard leaned forward at Will’s small voice. Will looked over as if just now noticing the Captain.

“Jean-Luc?”

“Are you alright?” The Captain asked gently.

“I—What happened?” He looked around. “Where am I?”

“You’re in one of the Guest Quarters.” Worf took over as he went over and sat next to Will on the bed. “You’ve been acting strangely. I believe you went through what Klingons call Tuj’Qoch.”

“What’s that?” Will frowned, his hand squeezing Picard’s.

“As I understand, it is highly similar to the mating heat animals on Earth go through.” Picard took over, gently explaining. “By my understanding, it had never occurred amongst males and it isn’t something that can be passed on to other species.”

“One has it when she finds a suitable male to breed her.” Worf said, bowing his head. Riker looked over at Picard in alarm.

“I wasn’t—I didn’t—” He looked between them. “I didn’t force anything—”

“No!” Worf looked up sharply. “No, sir, you were just very… quiet and unresponsive.”

“As far as we were aware, you didn’t respond to any outside stimuli. I think that was a big part of why Dr. Crusher didn’t think it was the Tuj’Qoch. To be completely honest, I am, too, skeptical if it was.”

“Is it… Is it something we could test? Could it happen again?” There was an urgency to Riker’s speech that alarmed Picard. He didn’t want the young man to panic, no, he didn’t want him to feel anything extreme just yet. Going from zero to hundred wasn’t Picard’s speed.

“We don’t know.” Worf shook his head. “And you just came back to us. Let’s settle down first.” Worf reached out and smoothed a hand down the side of Will’s face, cupping his jaw, his thumb swiping over his lips. “We should probably go to the Sick Bay and have you looked at, but I just want to sleep next to you again.”

“Me too, Number One.” Picard sighed. “This might not make me a very good Captain, but all I can think is: ‘the Hell with the ship and the mission, I just want to make sure you’re alright’.”

Will studied them for a moment, looking between them with a warm familiarity, then he leaned in and tenderly kissed Worf on the mouth. As they parted, he turned to Picard and pulled him into a kiss as well.

“Alright.” He said softly, just centimeters away from Picard’s face. Then there was an awkward pause, but then Worf shred his robe he wore for meditation and Picard peeled out of his uniform. Will was wearing a fresh pair of underwear and a white shirt, so he stayed that way as they settled in bed, the Captain and the Lieutenant on both sides of their Number one, holding each other close as they fell asleep on the narrow bed.

The end.

**Author's Note:**

> I was re-watching TNG as one does when they're in quarantine and I had this dream, right, where Picard/Riker/Worf were in a poly relationship. And I decided to write it. I'm really not into Star Trek ships, especially anything featuring Picard, but I thought some of you might enjoy, so I just shrugged and did it. For that reason I refuse to write ST smut, and the dream wasn't sexual anyways, just pretty much what you see here, except in the end they build the bed themselves and that's just a dumb dream thing, so I skipped it.
> 
> A fair warning, I'm not a native English speaker, so I didn't watch any ST shows in English, and I half-assedly researched the terminology and figure of speech. Forgive me if anything is inaccurate. Same reason why it's unbeta'd, so all my mistakes are my own.
> 
> I did use a Klingon translator, so it's Tuj'Qoch = heat+partner, Tuj'Be' = heat+woman. Also every species you don't recognize are made-up (fun fact about their inspiration: Halithian = Haiti Alamoise = Alamo+mayonnaise :D).
> 
> I do not own anything. Not even a house, even this laptop is borrowed.


End file.
